Futile Attempts
by Samsara
Summary: *Takes place after Book 4* It's Harry's happy 15th birthday, and he gets kidnapped ::gasp:: Updated! Extremely long chapter. Slash now (hxr) Harry's finally turned up, but he attacked Tom? And he's running away now? What the hell...?
1. feel me here

Futile Attempts  
  
By Samsara  
  
A/N: This fic starts after Book 4, may contain themes of suicide, slash, pain, cussing, torture etc. The Dursleys are wayyyyy out of character, but there is an explanation. I don't own Harry Potter, so all you freaks who wanna sue me can go away now. Please review, but all flames will be sent to my pyromaniac friend Lucy.  
  
Futile Attempts  
  
Chapter One: Feel me here  
  
  
  
A few more minutes and the stocky, raven haired boy with emerald eyes would be able to say he was 15. The digital watch that had been taped to the wall next to his desk stated that it was 11: 58. Harry Potter stretched from his position at the uncomfortable desk, placing his quill back into the jar of ink that was perched in the center of the table, just able the half used piece of shabby parchment. His report on Celtic Magic and Its' Uses was nearly half done, the black ink gleaming in the faint torchlight. Sighing, Harry stood cautiously and made his way to Hedwig's cage, opposite of the open window.  
  
So many things were troubling the boy's mind as he absent-mindedly stroked the sleek white hair of his owl. If Harry had been a normal, average schoolboy, he wouldn't have been thinking such dismal thoughts. However, Harry Potter was far from your average English boy.  
  
Harry Potter was a wizard, and that fact alone was enough to condemn him to terrible treatment he received from his Aunt and Uncle and their plump son Dudley. None of his Dursley relatives would care that Harry had just turned 15, or that Harry had nearly died several times. In fact, their reaction would probably be the exact opposite of sadness, fear and worry. Luckily, Harry had one other relative, and friends to boot; otherwise Harry would have most likely committed suicide from loneness. His godfather, Sirius Black was a convict in the Wizarding world and on the run from authorities. Harry had never known that Sirius was his godfather until a year ago when he and his two best friends, Hermoine Granger and Ron Weasly had a run in with him and discovered his innocence.  
  
Harry's thoughts differed in the basic fact that he was a wizard, and he was thinking what most wizards and witches were thinking about now: Lord Voldemort. Last year at Harry's wizarding school, Hogwarts, the dark lord had been revived during the Triwizard Tournament and had managed to kill Cedric Diggory and nearly murder Harry in the process. Since then, He Who Must Not Be Named hadn't revealed himself in public, but rather disappeared completely, most likely to set up plans for conquering the Wizard World. Every witch and wizard was currently worrying over when Lord Voldemort would stop biding his time and attack.  
  
But as we all know, Harry had a larger reason to fear Voldemort. (a.n: don't worry, I'll stop with the re-telling!)  
  
Warily, Harry glanced at the clock, which now read 12:26 a.m. The moon flashed her generous beams into the still room, igniting adrenaline inside the boy. Something wasn't right. That thought was immediately confirmed by the sharp throbbing that hit his forehead at full blast. Immediately, Harry's hand leapt to rub the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, however the pain was too much.  
  
Harry Potter fell to the floor, unconscious, in a silent thud, a hooded figure standing over the limp boy.  
  
"So we meet again, Harry Potter,"  
  
The tall figure knelt down and gently drew a pale finger across his face. The dark figure stood up suddenly, wand brandished and heading for the doorway, demonic words uttering from his lips.  
  
" Obliviate"  
  
  
  
------------------------  
  
  
  
" Ron, any news from Harry yet?" a shabby and harassed looking woman asked her son as he entered the kitchen.  
  
"Not yet mum. I'm starting to get worried. It's been about a week since his birthday and he hasn't replied. I sent Pig with another message, but Pig's back and mum... Harry isn't at the Dursleys. Pig returned with my message," Ron whispered in reply, sitting down at the breakfast table.  
  
"WHAT!?" Mrs. Weasly's loud yelp brought 4 other redheaded children tumbling down the stairs of the Burrow.  
  
"Wuzizgoin'nd'wn'he'?" George Weasly asked groggily, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, as was Fred, Ginny and Percy.  
  
" Something's wrong with Harry. He hasn't replied to any of my notes, and Pig returned my newest letter, meaning that Harry is no longer at the Dursley's. But that's not the weirdest part! Pig came back well fed, groomed and happy! He was gone for a week with my message, so if Harry isn't at the Dursley's any longer, that means the Dursley's had to have taken care of Pig, which is just plain messed up!" Ron informed then, bowing his head into his hands.  
  
" Dad hasn't heard anything at the Ministry, and neither have I. If Harry is missing, it has to be serious if the Ministry doesn't know of it," Percy remarked, plopping himself down into a seat.  
  
"But.... But... You don't think... You Know Who..." Ginny squeaked, her feet trapped in non-motion beneath her. Everyone in the room paused, fear sinking into their minds.  
  
" Now, now! I'm sure there's a perfectly happy, normal, explanation for this," Mrs. Dursley tried to comfort her children, but failing miserably.  
  
" I'm off. I'm going to go warn Fudge that there is a strong possibility that Harry Potter is missing. You guys can use the Trigonilate and speak to Hagrid, Hermoine and anybody else he'd be in contact with and see if he has written them lately. Tell them what's going on," Percy stood up formidably, taking hand of the situation.  
  
" I'm coming with you. I need to talk to your Father about all of this! I'll see if we can take a visit to Harry, if he's there. Fred, George, calm Ginny down and I want you to use Floo Powder and take a visit to Diagon Alley. See if Harry has been there to buy school supplies or whatever," Molly Weasly told the twins.  
  
" Yea, calming Ginny is as easy as making a Dementor happy," Fred remarked dryly at Ginny's state, which was eyes wide with fear and it seemed as though she had become petrified.  
  
Molly ignored the comment, but continued, " I want no funny monkey business from you two! No trips down Knockturn Alley and no shopping. I only want you to find out about Harry. Don't tell people that Harry could be missing - that could cause a widespread panic. Get back here soon. Ron, you and Ginny use the Trigonilate and contact Hermoine and other people and see if he's written them. Tell us at once if someone has, cause that could save us a great deal of time. If no one has, invite them over. There's a listing book here if you need it,"  
  
"Monkey business! Hah! Us? Are you mad?" George joked.  
  
----------  
  
sun sets 'cross the ocean  
  
i'm a thousand miles from anywhere  
  
my pocketbook and my heart both just got stolen  
  
and the sun act like she don't even care  
  
the wind blows cold when you reach the top  
  
it feels like someone's face is stuck to the bottom of my shoe  
  
i got a plastic jesus, a cordless telephone for every corner of my room  
  
got everybody but you telling me what to do  
  
but i've been down so long  
  
ooh, it can't be longer still  
  
i've been down so long  
  
that the end must be drawing near  
  
The soft melody and the accompainment of the guiter awoke Harry from his sleep. Groggily, he woke from a dreamless sleep, wanting to sit up, but unable to do so. Thick metal straps bound him to the wall he was propped up against, making in impossible for him to sit comfortably. The singer was perched at the large window opposite him. Gently she laid her guiter down, stroaking it lovingly, and turned her bright violet eyes to him.  
  
"Welcome, Harry Potter,"  
  
-----  
  
Can I continue? ::hides underneath blanket:: I hope so.... -.-() ::hugs teddy bear:: Sorry if there is misspelled stuff, my spell check just got a funky on me. The song the gal wus singing is from Down So Long, by Jewel. Fanks! 


	2. faith

Futile Attempts  
  
Chapter Two: Faith  
  
A/N: Same stuff as last time. Just for ya'lls 411, a Trigonilate is like the Wizard version of a telephone.  
  
  
  
  
  
All hell seemed to have broken loose within the space of one day. The days had turned to nights quickly after word had spread that Harry Potter had been kidnapped and was probably in the hands of the Dark Lord himself. Ron and his family had visited Number 4 Privet Drive themselves, and were horrified by what they found.  
  
* Flashback *  
  
"Why hello there! May I help you?" Aunt Petunia had answered the door, dressed in a simple blue dress and a white apron tied at her waist. Her hands were caked in flour and she looked as though she had just come from the kitchen, which was true.  
  
"Uh, yes. I'm Ron's father, we came by to look up on Harry," Mr. Weasly, smiled and stretched forth his hand, practicing what was supposed to be good muggle manners. Ron and Hermoine both expected her to turn her nose up at them and slam the door in her face, but instead she grasped the outstretched hand.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I do believe you've gotten the wrong address, unless you are speaking of our only son Dudley. Please do come in, Mr. uh..." Petunia looked quite distressed, but opened the door so they could all step in.  
  
" Weasly. This is my wife Molly, my son Ron and his friend Hermoine. Thank you," Mr. Weasly said and ushered them all into the house. The four visitors sat down in the living room while Petunia went to get her husband and son. Soon a tall, buff man with a lean and smart looking boy entered the room. The man shook all of their hands before sitting down, his son Dudley sitting on the other side of Hermoine.  
  
"So, Mr. and Mrs. Weasly, I am told that you are searching for a young boy named Harry Potter. Well, I must inform you that Harry Potter does not live with us," Vernon Dursley informed them, grinning broadly.  
  
"But father. Wasn't mum's sister's family the Potters?" Dudley spoke up, his voice timid and scary to Hermoine and Ron, who were used to his more evil form.  
  
  
  
"That is what I was getting to. You see, about 15 years ago, my wife's sister Lily and her husband James and their son Harry died when their house caught fire. It was pretty dramatic for Petunia, and she could barely get over it all. I'm afraid that the Harry Potter you are seeking is long dead," Vernon told them gravely, motioning to a picture of James, Lily and a baby Harry cuddled together and smiling. Ron opened his mouth to ask something else, but he caught his dad's eyes and thought the better of it. With that the group left, thoroughly worried and disappointed.  
  
* End *  
  
Apparently, whoever had kidnapped Harry had completely changed the Dursleys so they wouldn't miss Harry and so that Dumbledore would be fooled into thinking that Harry was still with them because he would not have sensed a change with the Dursleys. Ron and Hermoine were forced to go back to Hogwarts and continue school, hopefully escaping the press and learning something.  
  
All that had happened 3 years ago.  
  
By now both Ron and Hermoine had graduated from Hogwarts, Hermoine with flying colors and Ron doing okay. Ron never really accepted Harry's disappearance and the fact that he had to finish school before he could help his friend. Hermoine had buried herself further into books and learning, having every intention of searching for Harry as soon as she was let out of Hogwarts for the last time.  
  
The wizarding world had leapt into fear with Harry's disappearance. Although Hermoine and Ron vowed to find Harry, the ministry had had no luck in doing such. So, the public assumed the worst and continued to live away in fear.  
  
So now that Hermoine and Ron were out of Hogwarts, the two had aggreed on a trip to Albania, where Voldemort was supposed to be hiding. If they had to crawl all over the world to find, then they would do so.  
  
  
  
--- But Wait! What About Harry?! I don't know... okay, maybe I do... -.-() pweese review, cos it's nice. Sorry this was short, but I get more up soon, okies? maybe even tonight... --- 


	3. Running with the Sun

Futile Attempts  
  
Chapter Three: Running With the Sun\  
  
Samsara  
  
Ron Weasly and Hermoine Granger entered the Leaky Cauldron with high spirits. Finally the duo would be able to search for Harry after years of being stuck in school and helpless to Harry. The Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley were their first stops on the trip. They planned to spend the day at Diagon Alley picking up any essentials they needed to search for Harry in Albania. Then they could spend a last relaxing night at the Leaky Cauldron and finally set out on their journey.  
  
The pair strode down the streets, hustling through the chilly streets. Diagon Alley had changed so much after Harry's Disappearance. Now, every wizard and witch was searched upon entry into most stores and into Diagon Alley itself. Only people with special cards could enter the Ministry of Magic Building, and it took a month to get one.  
  
The entire attitude of the population had been turned around. No children ran about the streets now, laughing and yelling mock curses and hexes. Everyone always was on the lookout, always ready to accuse an innocent of siding with the Dark Lord. Silently they stalked, in and out of stores, flipping through spell books and re-reading old class notes.  
  
The Leaky Cauldron was nearly empty that night, save for a few patrons. Ron and Hermoine were the only people staying the night, and old Tom was sitting at the bar, drunk as usual. (His name is tom, right?) Ron and Hermoine glanced warily about the room, carefully remembering all the old times of happiness they had had here. Now, the pub was only a memory of long gone.  
  
"Ron, come here for a bit, I want to go over some spells, okay?" Hermoine's voice was soft and her smooth fingers spread across is clothing and tugged ever so gently.  
  
The boy nodded dumbly before disappearing inside his own room for a moment. Later, he appeared in her room, wand at hand.  
  
" What did you want to go over?" he asked slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"A few curses and spells. This one is called the Thought Reflection. We never went over it in school, and it would help us. It's a spell were you can pick up on a person's thoughts and see what they see," she explained, opening up a very rusty old book and flipping through the pages.  
  
Ron stood up and moved to her.  
  
"How does it go?"  
  
------  
  
  
  
It was nearly 12 am before Ron left Hermoine's room for his own. Diagon Alley was completely silent, and the only noise to be heard was soft movements from Tom downstairs. The lights were all diminished except for one, a candle, which was serenely positioned next to Hermoine's bed. She wasn't reading, or shuffling thru notes, but thinking and brushing her hair.  
  
Ron had changed since Harry disappeared. Well, of course he changed, but more than the others and in a more drastic way. He had become more determined and had stopped goofing off to learn more. He had ended up as Head Boy, even without ever being a prefect. His eyes that had once shone with enlightenment and endearment of the highest had become icy cold. His body stiffened at the mention of Harry's name, and now, he refused to be touched.  
  
Anything that Harry had ever given him, letter or trading card, was now a sacred artifact.  
  
//Don't try to hide it, Ron, I know you love him. It's so easy to see, and it has always been easy to see. You'd never tell me the truth though. I know why. You think I'm in love with you. Someday, I promise, you and Harry will be living happily somewhere, totally in love like you should be. Harry loved you back, and he still does if he can recall the feeling. Maybe Viktor and I will get married, after he finishes those extra courses he's taking. Everything will be just as it should. You can't be dead Harry, I know you would never surrender to death that easily. I promise, that we will find you.\\  
  
Over the years, Hermoine and Viktor had stayed a true couple. It was obvious they were going to wed, but only after Harry was found and Viktor finished his extra schooling. Viktor had always wanted Harry as his best man.  
  
-----  
  
  
  
Tom looked up sullenly from his tankard of beer to gaze heavily at the tall man who entered. The pub was still open, and it had been a while since a customer had come in at night. Suddenly, the old bartender's mood swung to that of triumphant happiness.  
  
"Hail Stranger, what can I get you t'night?" he questioned blissfully. The man stopped for a moment as if star struck. He did not wear traditional wizarding robes, but was dressed in extremely baggy black pants and a grey hooded sweatshirt. His face was hidden by the hood, but the air about him seemed familiar.  
  
Slowly, his feet worked again and brought him to a stool at the bar.  
  
" Red Dragon Ale, please," his voice was ruff and untamed, as though he were a wild man from the furthest reaches of the world.  
  
"Comin' right up. So stranger, what brings ye here at this time a night?" the man set about the order, his bones happily creaking with the enjoyment of finally being able to serve someone.  
  
"I was hoping for some old time fun. I guess that has run out like everything else," the comment was dry and well chosen. The bartender raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I can't say I've ever seen you here," he replied, placing the drink in front of his patron.  
  
"Indeed not. I've only been in Diagon Alley. That's what I meant," his voice cracked at the last part causing the other eyebrow on Tom's face to rise.  
  
"I see," silence befell the pair as the mysterious guest drank down the burning liquid in several mouthfuls at a time. His eyes glimmered softly as he peered about the room, a soft green twinge reflecting off his tankard.  
  
His drink was half done when he was spoken to again.  
  
"You seem a bit on the downside. Anything I can help you with? Hard times are these, and everyone needs to stick together," Tom said, leaning on his side of the counter. The man dumbly shook his head.  
  
"No, nothing. Just, the usual, for me at least." he answered calmly. His drink was finished.  
  
"Thank-you," was all he replied before flipping some coins onto the table as payment. Suddenly the coins became lost to Tom, as the elder man gazed in wonderment at the stranger's hidden face. His eyes were the only feature visible, but in the lamplight they glowed with harmony and simple, passionate courage. Abruptly, the stranger turned, and had his hand on the door latch, when Tom strode over a placed a warm hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Harry..."  
  
-----  
  
Ron tossed and turned in his sleep, clutching vainly at the bedclothes. In his mind, he was holding Harry. They gazed softly into each other's eyes, but suddenly, Harry would disappear. Ron would reach out, only to grasp the wisps of fading hair, lips and cheek. The dream, or nightmare, had always been the same. Eventually, Ron would awake, gasping for breath and clutching the air where Harry had been.  
  
Quietly Ron crept out of his bed, the springs not daring to creak and give his presence away to the night. Ron was still wearing his day clothes, and indeed, he never wore nightclothes anymore. After being attacked in bed, Ron made sure he was always ready for such attacks. The tall youth stalked out the door, his intentions on downstairs. Hopefully Tom would be up to talk to. The man was quite comfortable to talk to. He had just closed his door when a loud cry sounded from downstairs sounded.  
  
"RON!!! HERMOINE!!! GET DOWN HERE NOW!!"  
  
Ron leapt down the old wooded stairs as Hermoine emerged groggily from her room. Tom stood as the door, nursing a cut to left forearm and panting heavily.  
  
"Tom! Are you alright? What happened?" he asked, shredding his robe to give his old friend a bandage.  
  
"Blast it Ron!" Tom growled, meaning his wound, " Harry was here just now! I swear my life on it! Please, you have to go after him! He's running through Diagon Alley now!"  
  
Ron gasped, silently berating himself. How come he had not come sooner? Nodding wildly, Ron bounded to his feet and barged out the door, mind intent on Harry. Hermoine would help Tom then follow.  
  
------  
  
Harry raced through Diagon Alley, his feet and heart looking for escape. Dammit! How could he have been so careless? Walking into the Leaky Cauldron where someone was bound to recognize him. He couldn't face anybody if they caught him. What would they say when they found out? What would Ron say?  
  
No, he couldn't take that. He couldn't stand rejection from the one he lov- shut up! a cruel voice yelled at him from within. If you are to save her, you have to abandon all feelings and submit. There's no choice. Harry would willingly love Ron for eternity if lives weren't at stake here. Unfortunately, they were. He was nearing the end of the Alley and to the crossing points of the roads to all the other alleys. He could loose whatever followers he had gained here. Unfortunately, he presence was discovered. He had given the people hope. Now rumor would spread that Harry Potter was indeed alive, and quite dangerous. He had proved that by slashing Tom's arm. Harry now knew he would be in trouble. His master wouldn't like that, not one bit.  
  
His feet paused at the crossroads, confused and weary. Where would he go? Because of his mistake, Harry would have to hang low for a while before continuing his mission. The boy's childish side was revealed as his thumbs and index fingers pinched and re-pinched the hem of his sweatshirt. It was raining heavily now. The faint glimmers and sounds of London rang and clanged about him, but he was lost. He was lost in running towards the sun.  
  
Suddenly his ears swiveled. Footsteps, pounding hard against the muddy earth. He was being followed. Dammit!  
  
His feet worked again, picking the closest route. If he got lost, he could always sort himself out later. His ears picked up a new ringing, a voice perhaps? It screamed out a name, repeatedly, but it obviously fell on deaf ears.  
  
-----  
  
"HARRY!! HARRY!!" Ron screamed, his voice ragged. He was racing after his old friend and prospective lover, but his goal was not stopping. What had happened to Harry? Why was he running away?  
  
"Curse you Harry. I will catch you! I'm NOT LOSING YOU AGAIN!!" Ron shouted the last part out, as though it were his battle cry. The rain pattered down heavily, weighing him down. All the fears of rejection and loss faded with the flood of rain and tears as Ron sped after the dark haired boy.  
  
----  
  
Harry's feet weakened with each step. His chaser was closing in, and now he was penned in. A dead end lay up ahead, and if he were to escape, he'd have to retrace his steps back to the crossroads. His only chance was hiding, and that was miniscule. Crying out in pain and self-disgust, Harry threw himself to the mud and into the corner of the dead end. His fists balled up and tears stroked his gentle complexion. Why was this happening? He would be dragged back to wherever and he would have to face Dumbledore, Hermoine, Hagrid, Sirius, the Weaslys.... and Ron. He couldn't do that to them! How could he tell them how he had failed the; had let them down? Bitterly he stood, prepared to face his pursuer.  
  
-----  
  
Ron gasped for breath as he entered the dead end. Harry stood, face still hidden, in the corner, pressed against the wall. He looked... different, and odd. He seemed so afraid and alone as he stood, firm muscles pressed hard against the walls, seeking freedom. Ron strode forward firmly, and cornered the man before him.  
  
"Harry?" He asked gently, reaching for the hood.  
  
"Leave me alone!" came the haughty reply. Harry now shook with cold, fear and anger. How dare someone make him face his fears!?  
  
"No! I'm not losing you again! Let me help you! It's me, Harry, me! Ron! Ronald Weasly!" Ron answered gravely. Harry stopped moving entirely, disbelieving his ears. Ron? Not you! Not now, not here! Timidly his captor stretched forward his hand, and removed the hood.  
  
Harry's eyes weren't glimmering as they should, but instead were dull; lifeless. His nose was stronger, and looking like he had been punched there several times. His lips were trembling and chapped, and he sniffled from crying. His pretty face was streaked red, but otherwise pale. Fading bruises and cuts shone in the rain and moonlight.  
  
"God, Harry, what happened?" the redhead asked sensitively, stroking his friend's dirty forehead.  
  
"Nothing! Nothing!" Harry yelled back, instantly reaching for his knife hidden round the back of his waist. His move was detected however. Ron's callused hand grabbed Harry's resolutely, drawing it up to his chest. Their bodies were pressed close now, and they were within kissing distance. Ron knelt forward so that his lips nearly touched the other boy's ear.  
  
"Don't Harry. I want to help you, please," Ron pleaded, his voice a mere exhale.  
  
"Damn you, Ron. Can't you see I want to be alone," the words came out a simple lie, " that I ought to be dead?"  
  
Ron drew back instantly, searching Harry's face for mirth or delight. There was none.  
  
"Don't you dare say that, Harry. Ever. You hear me? That is not true, and you . bloody. know it!" Ron answered, his voice deathly and full of threat. Harry ignored the threat however.  
  
" It is true! I know it is! I know it is! I should be dead and rotting 6 feet under by now..."Harry was crying now, his voice shaky. Wearily, Harry collapsed against Ron, his breath ragged.  
  
"Harry? Harry!" Ron yelped and felt his friend's forehead. He had a high fever and had passed out. Ron gently cradled the boy against his wet self, turning back to the Leaky Cauldron. He would find out what was with Harry, that much he promised.  
  
------ 


End file.
